


By the Time I Blink

by farfarawaygirl



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, Friends to more, When you fall in love with the person beside you, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23451337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl
Summary: “Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me?”It’s loud and packed in the bar. Boisterous. But for the one perfect moment, it’s just then. Just a guy with sad blue eyes, and a girl with hopeful ones standing too close together at the bar. She doesn’t hear the noise of the people around them, impossibly she hears his heartbeat. Someone bumps into her from behind and Sylvie’s steadies herself by placing a hand on Matt’s arm.It’s electric.She feels the thrumming of his heart.“I feel like I’ve missed you all week.”So, at least she’s been successful in her attempts to stay away.He doesn’t love her back. Sylvie reminds herself.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 12
Kudos: 213





	By the Time I Blink

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I wrote this a while back, still haven’t edited it, but just want to put it out there.

Sylvie is trying on her freshly delivered bridesmaid dress when it hits her. She has feeling for Matt. And, not like, ‘oh, he’s so cute and I like him’, feelings. But, like, ‘his is the face she is starting to picture at the end of the aisle in her daydreams,’ feelings. Which is wildly inconvenient. 

When the dresses had arrived, Chloe had called her whole squad over, so Sylvie is having a mild existential crisis in a roomful of women tipsy from champagne, and over emotional from excess wedding feels. She tries to hid the shaking of her hands by clutching her champagne flute two handed. It’s shouldn’t hurt like this. She should not care for Matt like this. 

“Are you okay?” Chloe asks, concern on her face. 

Sylvie nods. “I just can’t believe Otis is missing this.”

And she can’t. Not really. Sometimes that missing Otis feeling just pops up out of nowhere and drowns her. Right now, Sylvie is thinking about what he would say if he knew her feelings for Casey. 

“Don’t be stupid”, maybe. Or, “What were you thinking?”.

Tears prickle her eyes. Chloe is the first to offer a hug, and then Stella is hugging her too. Sylvie really wants to cry now. But she’s here, celebrating her dear friends wedding, so she doesn’t. Sylvie squares her shoulders and puts on a smile. 

Later, after the dresses are carefully stored away, and Sylvie helped Chloe wash and dry her glassware, she makes a list in her head. 

Don’t call him Matt. From now on he’s just Casey. Her Captain. 

No more confiding talks. 

No more sharing a drink, or grabbing a bite to eat off shift. 

Sylvie methodically straightens her living room and runs over the list. When she feels unsure she adds in more rules. 

No alone time. 

Definitely no touching. 

No thinking about him when they’re apart. 

When her phone pings, she flips it over and sees a message from Matt. From Casey. A message from Casey. 

Matt Casey: Kidd made way to much Alfredo, come over so I’m not stuck with leftovers all week. 

She just kind of looks at her phone. 

New rule, she thinks, typing out a vague excuse as to why she can’t come over. 

No non work texting. No more phone calls. 

Because, here is the thing. Mat-Casey, she corrects her thoughts, texts her a lot. About his day, about what he’s doing, asking if she has certain plans. She flips to her call log and checks. In the last week they’ve talked on the phone six times. Sylvie feels heat flood her cheeks. She mortified. What if he suspects how she feels? 

What if the rest of the house suspects how she feels?

Slumping down on her sofa in defeat she puts a pillow over her head and screams. How could she have opened her heart like that? She needs to spend more time out of the house, needs friends who aren’t her shift mates. 

Sylvie Brett: hey! Remember when you said we should go for dinner and not hang out with the men we work with? Are you free tonight. 

Sylvie sends the text, hoping for a quick reply. 

Kim Burgess: God, yes. 

Kim Burgess: sushi or hot pot?

Sylvie Brett: hot pot! Where?

Sylvie watches the blue bubble for text shrink and grow as Kim replies. 

Kim Burgess: Hudson Hot Pot? 45 minutes. 

Sylvie Brett: you are on. 

This is okay. She can do this. When fussing with her hair, Casey calls. Sylvie lets it go to voicemail.

Dinner is awkward at first. They’re both a little reserved, and Sylvie is careful not to mention Kim’s miscarriage. About thirty minutes in, Kim asks Sylvie politely why she asked to meet. Sylvie hesitates, not sure if she wants to say, but decided that this here is going to be the only time she says it. Taking in a deep breathe she spills her guts. 

“I’m in love with someone who is just, perfect, yes, but also so off limits it’s ridiculous to even think about. And, he definitely thinks of me as a little sister,” Sylvie wrinkles her nose, surprised at the tears that are leaking out the corner of her eyes. “And I’m so mad I let myself even think, for like a minute, that this was a possibility.”

Kim’s eyes are round, but kind. Non-judge-y. Sylvie feels glad she decide to say it, feels emboldened to say a little more. 

“I’m not going to do anything. Or say anything. You’re the only one who knows.”

Kim’s mouth is hilariously lopsided as she grins back at Sylvie. 

“Okay,” Kim nods, “because we’re bonding, or whatever, I’m just going to say this once. I totally had grief, or pity sex with Roman before he left.”

“You did not!”

Kim nods, eating a mushroom. 

“After or before the funeral?”

“After, please.” Kim grimaces. 

“Have you talked since?”

“No!” Kim chugs her water. “No, we’re back to radio silence.”

“How do you feel?”

Maybe it’s the way that Sylvie asks the question, not the words themselves, that make it easy for Kim to answer. 

“Shitty. Tired. Whatever.”

Sylvie finds herself nodding emphatically. 

“I think we deserve dessert.”

They tip generously and wander down the road to an open late pie shop, drowning their woes in the sugary goodness of pecan pie and ice cream. It’s nice. Sylvie hasn’t had a night that easy in ages. She doesn’t overthink her actions as she Uber’s home, or replay hand placement, she just thinks about how Kim listened. Thinks about what Kim said. 

Shitty. 

Tired. 

Whatever. 

That about sums it up. 

————

One of the rules was not tell anyone. So Sylvie adjusts the rule. Don’t say anything about this unfortunate situation to anyone who is remotely connected to anyone she works with, except Burgess. As far as Sylvie is concerned Burgess is Switzerland. Which means when Foster asks why she’s so eager to restock the Ambo Sylvie lies. 

“I’m stressed about the wedding.”

Foster knows that Sylvie is doing a lot for the wedding, she chips in most nights when Chloe and Joe lay out their planners and bicker over choices. 

Sylvie wishes she had someone to bicker with. 

“Okay. But promise after we’re stocked and clean, you’re buying smoothies.”

“Deal!” Sylvie enthuses, this works in two ways; get the work done and makes it easier to avoid the kitchen. Read, easier to avoid Matt. Casey! Avoid Casey. 

“Maybe I should try online dating.” The thought is accidentally said out loud, before she can turn she knows Foster is about to pounce. 

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why try online dating?”

Sylvie thinks is fairly obvious. 

“You said it was time weeks ago, to get back out there.”

Foster is uncharacteristically diplomatic when she replies, “what’s changed since then?” Sylvie sees how Foster’s eyes dip to Casey’s turn out coat. 

“Nothing.” Even to her ears, her voice is bitter. 

“Okay.” Foster is gentle, patting Sylvie’s arm. “Okay. If you’re ready we’ll get you out there.”

Maybe Sylvie is ready. She’s more than six months past Kyle, and that whole messy summer. She’s ready for something. 

Their next call, someone who signs an AMA is right beside a bookstore. Feeling like she needs an extra distraction Sylvie takes a moment to duck inside. Her and Foster roam the aisles, fingers glancing over spines, and playing down silky book jackets. 

On a whim she picks up a book, and cracks the spine, reading in a few words before she knows she needs it. The author is a comedienne she recognizes from a Netflix special Otis made her watch. Jenny Slate. 

“Little Weirds?” The cashier exclaims, face swallowed up by oversized glasses. “I love this one. Love yourself first, right?”

———-

Avoiding Casey sometimes feels a little mean, and a lot counter intuitive. Sylvie finds herself skipping meals in the common room, secluding herself a bit in the Ambo in her attempt to keep space. There are a million things she misses about him, and he’s so close she could reach out and touch the crisp whiteness of his shirt. 

Sylvie misses how he’d find her so easily in a crowd. But she is also kind of impressed at her ability to avoid him. It’s like she has become Spider-Man. She knows by the pricking of her thumbs when to leave the room. 

She distracts herself with candy crush. Calling to check in on Julie. Wedding details. Reading. 

It’s only been a week, but she thinks she can do this. 

One word answers to text messages. Okay, so maybe a few words. One word is too hard. 

Matt Casey: are you coming to Molly’s? 

Sylvie Brett: I’m out with Kim at a wine night. 

Kim has been kind of wonderful. She never asks about the mystery guy, doesn’t pry, but she does share Sylvie affinity for Rosé and satisfies her love of true crime. 

They’re enjoying a cheese pairing with wine when Kim drops the bomb. 

“Voight said that Antonio would be in town next week.”

Sylvie is unprepared for how anticlimactic this all is. 

“huh.” She muses, passing on the blue cheese. “I guess he’s coming in with Gabby. Maybe she is bringing him to the wedding.” 

Kim has her cop face on. 

“Just to be clear, the guy, the one you’re avoiding? Casey, right?”

Sylvie swallows. 

“Yeah.”

Kim looks thoughtful. 

“You weren’t lying, he is the most inappropriate choice you could have made.”

Sylvie snorts

“To bad decisions!” Kim’s voice is loud on her salute, Brett’s answering toast is louder. 

“To avoiding bad decisions.”

————

“Where have you been?” Herrmann is loud, boisterous in his welcome. Molly’s is full tonight, crammed with firefighters and paramedics, Sylvie spots Atwater and Upton in the back. Kim makes her way over to them. 

“Trying new things.”

“Yeah? Why?”

Herrmann’s gruffness is endearing. 

“Self preservation.” Sylvie smiles at her own joke, which in turn makes Herrmann’s frown grow. 

“Hey, stranger.” Casey materializes beside Sylvie, who is impressed at how she doesn’t reach out to touch his hair. It’s looks so soft, and really doesn’t she need a reward? 

“Casey.” She smiles. 

Okay. Sylvie thinks. She can do this. 

Don’t hold eye contact too long. 

She looks away. 

“Syl,” Kim pops up beside her, frowning at Casey, even as she nods to him. That is female friendship. “Can I show Hailey those class schedules?”

“Sure!” Sylvie pulls open her purse, she pulls out a few items depositing them in the bar top while she finds the spin class brochures her and Kim found. Kim grabs the shiny paper, saying she’s be back in a moment. When Sylvie begins to pack up her stuff she notices Casey holding her copy of Little Weirds. 

He’s flipped open a page. 

She sees her own loopy cursive, and the way she’s underline a passage. 

Matt says a line aloud. 

Honestly? If Sylvie didn’t already know she was in love with him, she would now. 

“Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me?”

It’s loud and packed in the bar. Boisterous. But for the one perfect moment, it’s just then. Just a guy with sad blue eyes, and a girl with hopeful ones standing too close together at the bar. She doesn’t hear the noise of the people around them, impossibly she hears his heartbeat. Someone bumps into her from behind and Sylvie’s steadies herself by placing a hand on Matt’s arm. 

It’s electric. 

She feels the thrumming of his heart.

“I feel like I’ve missed you all week.”

So, at least she’s been successful in her attempts to stay away. 

He doesn’t love her back. Sylvie reminds herself. 

What were the rules? 

No touching. Sylvie pulls her hand back. 

No talking about non work things. 

“How many more shifts until the wedding?”

Casey seems amused at her change in subject. 

“I dunno. Like three?”

She wishes someone would swoop in and save her. Wishes that she hadn’t touched him. 

“Brett!” Upton calls, “you catching a ride home with us?”

Kim is shooting her a meaningful look.

“Gotta go!” She grabs her purse, picks up the bits of her things from the bar top and splits. She’s mildly triumphant. Or she would be if Kim wasn’t shaking her head at her.

Whatever. 

She’s tired. 

She feels shitty. 

———

After tossing and turning for what feels like the whole night Sylvie gets up, and tip toes to Emily’s room. She eases the door open, making sure it’s just Emily before she enters. 

“Em?” She whispers. 

Foster groans. 

“Foster?”

Sylvie ducks away from the pillow. 

“What?”

“I’m really sad about Casey.” 

It’s a monumental relief to say out loud. Like you finally pop your ears after a flight. Foster sits up, her sleep cap perfectly in pace. 

“I know.” She says. 

Sylvie wants to cry from relief. 

Wordlessly Foster pulls back the blanket, and Sylvie climbs in. Emily’s bed is too hard, firmer than her own. Emily finds one of Sylvie’s hands in the dark, squeezes it. 

“I didn’t mean to...” Sylvie trails off. 

“I know.”

Sylvie is lucky to have a friend who doesn’t make her say it. Who doesn’t pry. Who just gets it. They lay their in the dark, under the duvet and listen to the cars below until sleep claims them. 

———

Okay, so she’s broken a few rules recently. She didn’t mean to. It’s wasn’t planned. Except, now she’s is kind of on purpose breaking one. It’s just before shift, and she’s seated on the bench in the locker room thinking about Casey. In her defence the room smells like his deodorant and aftershave. 

Julie hasn’t returned any of her calls. Sylvie used the Casey distraction for a while to keep her mind off it, but now it’s pretty clear. Julie has gone radio silent. No calls. No texts. 

Her tender heart just hurts so much. 

After morning briefing she ducked back into the change room, and tied to just take a moment. 

“Sylvie?”

Casey has found her. 

Okay, so avoiding wasn’t working. She’s switching tactics. She’s just going to lean right into it. 

“Casey?” Sylvie hates how watery her voice sounds. 

Matt’s concerned face leans right in, when he sits beside her. Sylvie thinks of touching the furrow between his brow. She’s doesn’t, but it definitely crosses her mind. 

“Sylvie, what’s going on?” Matt puts an arm around her shoulders, and pulls her in a little. “You’ve been missing for the past week!”

Sylvie shrugs, but feels that Matt’s not going to just leave it alone. 

“Everything is weird.” Matt nods to her words, and then the word vomit starts. “I miss Otis. I’m tired of no one loving me back. Julie stopped talking to me, and now Kim said Antonio is coming back to Chicago and the last time I saw him, he was such a jerk.”

Matt is rubbing her back, in calming circular motions. 

“And the last time Gabby came to town, you disappeared for like a month, and I...” Sylvie pulled up short. 

“Sorry.” Wiping her eyes, Sylvie tries to move away, “I shouldn’t have.”

Matt’s not letting her go, bringing his other arm up, and linking his hands. 

“Sounds like there is a lot going on.”

Miserably, Sylvie nods into his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I’ve added to your plate.”

“What? How?” Sylvie asks. 

“I’m not going to disappear.”

She feels like two inches tall. 

“I just mean, after she was here in November, we weren’t us,” again Sylvie stumbles. “I mean, it took a while for you and I...”

Matt is looking at her. She gets the distinct impression he feels bad about that. 

“I’m not going to disappear on one of my best friends when she needs me.”

Okay. She can do friends. If this week has shown her anything she misses him too much. 

“Besides, last time,” Matt clears his throat, “last time was the last time if you know what I mean.”

Sylvie makes a noise of agreement, like she knows what he means. But she doesn’t. The last time he sleeps with Gabby? The last time he gets sucked into her orbit? The last time she compromises him emotionally?

“And the other stuff... well, I’ll help you. What do you mean the last time you saw Antonio he was a jerk?”

Matt face hardens as he asks that. Honestly, Sylvie never told anyone. 

“Last spring he showed up at my place high, and Otis had to ask him to leave.”

Matt doesn’t say anything, just tightens his arms around Sylvie. Objectively she fits nicely in his arms. It’s nice to be held. Sylvie doesn’t want to like it, but she does. 

“And Julie?”

“I don’t want to talk about Julie.”

Sylvie feels defeated. Her head hurts from not crying. Her heart hurts form proximity to Matt and all the sadness from her birth mom. 

“Is that why you avoided me all last week?”

Indignantly, Sylvie replies, “I did not!”

“Sylvie,” there is laughter in Matt’s voice, “you literally ate a granola bar in the rig to avoid dinner.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“You didn’t return any of my calls. Or texts.”

Sylvie turns away a little, just enough to avoid his intense gaze. 

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I really, really did.”

There is a bright spot blooming in her chest, behind her ribs. A little thrum of happiness and possibility. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You’re allowed space, just don’t disappear again, please.”

Finally Matt releases her, they stand awkwardly close and emotionally charged, beside their lockers. 

“Now that we’re talking again, can we get breakfast after shift?” At her silence Matt, adopts a new tactic. “I promise to share the Fruit French Toast.”

“That’s what you said last time!”

They are both laughing now, Sylvie feels feather light in her soul. 

“I still maintain that’s what happened.”

Sylvie plays with the zip on her vest. 

“Seriously, what do you say? Breakfast?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Then it’s a date.”

Matt’s voice is steady. His eyes are clear. His giving her the signature Matt Casey look of earnest confidence. 

“Okay.” Sylvie’s mouth is dry. “It’s a date.”

She floats down the hall. Her shoulders feel lighter, her steps softer, Sylvie is beaming. 

“What’s with you?”

Cruz is watching her suspiciously, arms folded on his chest. 

“Joe Cruz!” Sylvie sings, heart light, “you are getting married!”

He shoots her the smile that Chloe fell in love with, Sylvie is dazzled by the limitless possibilities of life. How a fire in an apartment building can bring the love of your life into in. How someone can do their job and never come home. The world is a fickle place, and anything can happen. 

Even, something good. 

————

“Did something happen with you and Casey?”

Foster is squinting suspiciously at Brett. Sylvie stills momentarily, beside her on the cot, Stella turns quickly. 

Sylvie feels the heat travel up her neck. 

“Not really.”

Stella’s fingers dig into her hips, both from curiosity and in an effort to stay on the single cot they are all piled on. 

“What does that mean?”

“Maybe something will happen after shift.”

“Does our girl have a date?” Stella loses their battle with gravity, tips of the side of the bed, reappearing seconds later. 

“A breakfast date?” Foster is pounding a fist into Sylvie’s thigh, delight evident on her face. 

Kidd and Foster share a significant look. It’s 6 am and shift is nearly over, it’s that lull of the calm before the storm, there’s stuff to do, but everyone’s a little sleep deprived and stir crazy. Sylvie feels carefree for the first time in days. 

“Is this why you’re been so unhappy lately?”

“Partly,” Sylvie acknowledges, worrying the pillowcase between her fingers. “I was trying to avoid it, but then, I couldn’t anymore.”

Stella must sense the uncertainly behind it. “Because of Gabby?” She asks, knees back on the cot. 

“Yes. And because what if it doesn’t work out?”

They don’t get to finish the conversation because Tuesday comes bounding in. Behind him are Ritter and Gallo, flushed from the chase. 

———

Matt holds open the door for Sylvie, they are freshly changed and shift is over. Behind them a squabbling Kidd and Foster are followed by Severide. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Matt face is blindingly optimistic in the sunlight. Sylvie feels that pull of something bright in her chest one moment and the next feels a tug of dread. 

“Matt!” Gabby’s voice is loud across the apron, Sylvie takes a moment to remember to breathe as she sees whose beside her. Antonio. 

Okay. That floating feeling? Gone. 

The possibility of the world? Useless. 

“Dawson.” Matt sounds strained, he’s stopped walking, and it’s a comical pile up as first Sylvie then Kidd crash into him. Stella’s hands grab Sylvie’s shoulders. Sylvie swears she hears her friend curse. 

“We knew you’d guys would be getting off shift.” Antonio’s voice is as authoritative as always. It used to make Sylvie feel safe, but now all she thinks of is how he yelled when Otis made him leave. 

There’s an awkward round of hellos and introductions, Antonio doesn’t know Foster, who hardly knows Gabby. Surprising Sylvie is fighting the urge to laugh. 

“We thought maybe we could grab breakfast.”

Gabby’s words pop Sylvie’s last remains bubble of happiness. Everyone turns to Matt, likes it his decision alone, Sylvie feels sorry for him. Stuck in the middle of the situation.

“Oh. Yeah. That’d be nice.” She make it easy for him. “You guys enjoy!” She even sound chipper. 

“I mean, we could all grab breakfast.” Matt is looking intently at Sylvie, to the point she feels like he’s trying to communicate something she’s not picking up. His words do not match his face. Maybe he wants to have breakfast alone? 

“I could eat something.” Kidd adds, even though Sylvie knows she just had a muffin. Severide and Foster agree. 

“Jimmy’s on 7th?” Suggests Antonio. 

Matt shakes his head, “I promised Sylvie Fruit French Toast. It’s Antonella’s or nothing. Right?” He asks, turning towards Sylvie. 

Okay, how is it fair his eyes are this blue?

“Yeah. You did promise.”

“Ok. Antonella’s.” Matt’s voice has lost the bit of edge it had, “Sylvie you didn’t drive, so you come with me.”

Sylvie can’t help but feel like Gabby is unsettled by this whole operation. There are more people than she anticipated, and it’s not the restaurant she would choose. Gabby’s more savoury than sweet. Matt honestly herds her to his truck. Like, hands out, bumping into her, herds her. 

Foster and Kidd are rapidly talking to Severide who sends Matt and her a confused look before laughing. She hates her friends. The herding continues until she’s seated on the passenger side of the truck. 

“Sylvie.” Matt says her name lowly, knocking his arm into the rubber seal around the door. “I wanted to take you out, just us.”

Okay. That’s good. 

“Next time, just us.”

Matt flashes her that grin. 

How is she going to survive this meal?

When they get to Antonella’s Matt parks, but doesn’t get out. 

“I don’t have feelings for Gabby.”

“Okay.”

“Seriously. I don’t. She’s important to me, but I’m hoping that something is happening here. If it’s not, that fine, but I hope...”

Sylvie cuts him off. “It is happening.”

“Just to clarify, because I feel like you and I have been a series of miscommunications this past year, I’d really like to be more than friends.”

“Matt!” Sylvie laughs. “I have completely inappropriate feelings for you if what we are is just friends.”

“Then why are we here for breakfast with out ex’s?”

“What was I going to do? Say ‘sorry, Gabby, can’t make brunch, we’ve got a date?”

“We did have a date.” Matt points out, extremely unhelpfully. 

“As far as anyone in that restaurant is concerned, we are not dating.”

“We could bail.”

Instead of answer Sylvie hops out of the truck. After a pointed look Matt follows, when they walk the two blocks to the door, he purposely catches her fingers with his, just for a moment as they move. 

They’re the first group there, Sylvie stands beside Matt as he asks for table 7, and she thinks of all the ways this could go horribly, terribly wrong. 

“You’re a very loud worrier.”

“Aren’t you nervous?” She genuinely wants to know. 

Matt shrugs, “What’s the worst they can do? Move to the other side of the country?” His grin is both comical and sad. 

“Her loss.” Sylvie reminds him. 

“Their loss.” He corrects her, hand on her back as she leads them to a long galley table. 

She likes that he say it. That he admits that while her and Antonio were not married, there was something there. Something that hurt her when it ended. 

“But if Sheffield shows up, I’m out.”

“All my ex-fiancés are safely in Indiana.”

“Let’s keep them there.”

Matt asks a little more about what she’s doing for the wedding while they wait, thankfully Kidd, Severide and Foster get thier first. Foster keeps giving Sylvie these conspiratorial glances, but Matt’s tapping his foot against her’s under the table so she can barley think straight. 

When Gabby and Antonio do arrive Sylvie has a weird sense of déjà vu, they’ve had many meals together, but never on this side of things. It’s sad, thinking of what they used to be to one an other. Sending some solidarity towards Matt she lets her pinky grace his hand in the table. He doesn’t turn to her, still talking to Severide, but she sees his smile tick up. 

Antonio is seated across the table form her, Emily on the end. It’s kind of nice in a weird way. Matt is incredibly quiet as they peruse the menu, but Sylvie already knows what they’re going to get. 

One order of Fruit French Toast, whip cream on the side, to share. A ham and Swiss omelet with bacon on the side for Matt, and a poached egg on yam toast for her. It’s what they usually order when they come here; saying that makes it sound like they come here a lot, over the past year or so, they have. Even when Sylvie was with Kyle, or Matt was dating Naomi. 

Matt rattles off the order easily for the waitress when she asks, and then goes back to his studious silence. This has to be weird for him. So, even as she feels uncomfortable Sylvie takes the lead on talking. 

She asks Gabby and Antonio questions; about Puerto Rico, their family, travel plans. She expertly includes Foster, by explaining small details, and jokes with Kidd and Severide about work things. It’s not that bad. Surreal and out of body, at times, but manageable. 

“Are you seeing anyone, Sylvie?” Antonio asks after the waitress places the plates down, Sylvie who was dancing a second ago at the prospect of Fruit French Toast stops. 

Matt is cutting the third slice of French toast down the middle, Sylvie concentrates in the steadiness of his fork. 

“Yes.” She answers honestly. Ignoring Foster and Kidd’s quick exchange of a glance. “It’s very, very new. And very, very nice.”

Antonio seems poised to ask a follow up when Matt speaks up. 

“How are you dealing with that pain killer problem?”

Severide’s eyes widen, Sylvie knows Stella is kicking him under the table. 

“I’m fine.” His eyes dart to Sylvie, half accusing, “it’s under control.”

“Right, because getting kicked out of your ex-girlfriends apartment is under control.”

“Do you have something to say to me?” Antonio snaps back. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Matt,” Sylvie and Gabby say at the same time, they blink at each but when they turn back to Matt he’s looking at Sylvie, his eyes softer than his last words. 

Sylvie feels infinite affection for him, and his protectiveness. A special softness for the ways he protects others. 

“That piece is not even!” It’s a blatant attempt to refocus, she knows it worked when Matt shakes his head and pushes the piece of toast in question closer to her side. 

“Fine. You win.”

Sylvie wills the moment to pass, she cuts the toast with her fork and dunks it in the whipped cream. When she looks back up Gabby is watching her with a familiar expression, her diagnosis face. Kidd provides an assist by asking Foster about her teaching schedule. 

The tense moment flows away as they eat. Severide has clearly ordered too much food, and Stella teases him about it. After she finishes her Fruit French Toast Sylvie cuts her yam toast and poached in half, sliding the extra side onto Matt’s plate. 

“Perfect poach,” Matt garbles through his bite, leaning his shoulder into hers. 

“What are you doing the rest of your time in town?” Foster asks Antonio and Gabby, stealing the left over whipped cream from Sylvie’s plate. 

“Visiting family.” From Antonio. 

“I might stop by the house.” Gabby says, looking at Matt. “There’s a beer tasting that I heard of, downtown.”

There’s a note of pleading in her voice. 

“Do you have any free time this week, Matt?”

Casey is silent as she wipes his hands with a napkin. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dawson.”

“Right.” 

Sylvie feels sad for the things Gabby lost. The things she ran away from. It must have been so painful for her to leave. 

“You could join me and Burgess at a spin class!” She offers, remembering how it felt when Gabby was her best friend. 

“Yeah, I’ll see.”

The waitress comes by with bills, she’s already got Severide and Stella on one, and Sylvie smiles when Matt reaches out and snags the one she brought for the two of them. 

“You can get the next one.”

It feels like a promise. 

———

After breakfast everyone genuinely has things to do, So they say their goodbyes outside the door. 

Antonio finds Sylvie after she’s said bye to Gabby, he stands in front of her, hands in pocket and looks down. 

“I guess I owe you an apology.”

“It’s forgiven.” She replies, meaning it. 

“You deserves so much more than what I gave you.” His eyes land on Matt, “I just wish it didn’t have to hurt my sister for you to have it.”

Before Sylvie can reply, he’s hugged her and taken off down the street. Wordlessly she joins Matt who is listening to something that Severide is saying, fighting a grin when he bumps her shoulder with his. 

“You have plans this morning?”

Sylvie shakes her head. 

“Can I steal some of you time then?”

How can she say no?

When they get back to his truck he cranks the heat, letting her warm up as he drives. Sylvie feel restless in the car, she wants to talk about what happened, but also wants to just be in the truck, going somewhere with Matt. He drives in what seems like an aimless pattern, taking roads she know likes the back of her hand. After a solid half hour he pulls up at a college dorm. 

“What are we doing here?”

“Come on.”

She follows Matt, she remembers this place. They answered a call here last year, a guy had lost his fingers in a Roman Candle war. The height of collegiate invention. 

“Right there.” Matt points are a patch of grass, and Sylvie peers at it. 

“Right there?”

“That is exactly where you were last year, when I knew I was in trouble.”

“Trouble.”

Matt leans in a little, face open. 

“When I knew that what I felt for you was outside the realm of strict friendship.”

She’s surprised. That seems so long ago. 

“I know it’s taken me a while, and I’ve made some dumb choices along the way, but I wanted you to know that I know what I want to head towards.”

“And what’s that?” Sylvie asks. 

“You.” Matt is so honest. 

Sylvie beams. 

“I don’t know why it took me so long. I think I was mostly afraid of losing you.” He swallows. “I like that you encourage me, and don’t just decide things.”

He takes both of her hands. 

“I want an equal partnership.”

“That’s what I want too.”

Matt hesitates for a moment, leaning closer and closer, then just as he goes to dip down, Sylvie pushes herself up on tip toes and meets him halfway. It’s a little awkward, the way it always is when you first kiss someone. The mechanics of it all, whose nose goes where, where your hands falls. But it is also the best first kiss Sylvie has ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Fall in love already!!!!


End file.
